War Stinks!
by AliasCWN
Summary: The Rat Patrol is faced with some of the more unpleasant aspects of a war. They find themselves trying to understand the very concept of it.


**War Stinks!**

By: AliasCWN

"Hitch, keep watch while we get the water. Tully, take care of the jeeps."

Troy and his men were returning from a mission, having destroyed another radar station that the Germans had thought was well hidden. Low on water, Moffitt had suggested that they stop at a local village that was known to have a reliable well. Upon their arrival, they found only the bombed out shell of the former village remaining. Luckily the water was still good and they were able to fill their needs.

Taking the machine gun, Hitch went to find a good vantage point to keep watch. Tully went over the jeeps, servicing them and checking for any potential problems that could be fixed before they became an issue. The sergeants filled all their water containers and stowed them in the jeeps.

"Ready Tully?"

"Ready Serge." The private from Kentucky nodded.

Looking toward his driver, Troy opened his mouth to call to him, but froze as he noticed the young soldiers' stance. Hitch was standing completely still, his head cocked to one side as he strained to listen to something that had caught his attention. Troy watched and waited for the blond to give either an 'all clear' or sound the alarm. Sensing the others watching him, Hitch looked toward the jeeps.

"I hear something Serge."

"What" Troy called back, his eyes darting around, looking for danger.

"I don't know." The private responded with a frown. "It's muffled and it's not constant."

"What does it sound like?" The sergeant asked, moving closer.

"You're not going to believe me."

"Try me."

Hitch listened again, waiting to hear the sound that had caught his attention. "It sounds like a baby."

"A what?" Forgetting to whisper, Troy raised his voice, convinced that Hitch was joking.

"Really Serge." The blond responded, a puzzled look on his face. "It sounds like a baby…and it sounds like it's coming from in there." Hitch pointed toward the crumbled wall of one of the buildings.

Curious, Moffitt moved toward the wall, followed by Tully. Both men strained to hear the sound that Hitch had described.

"I don't hear anything…do you hear it now Hitch?" The Englishman asked.

Hitch shook his head 'no' as Tully circled around to get a better view. "Hey Serge, you'd better come see this." The quiet statement brought Troy around the wall in a hurry. Tully stood pointing toward some heavy beams nearly covered by fallen stone. Sticking out from under one of the beams was a human hand.

Moffitt and Hitch joined them as Troy stood staring at the hand. They all waited, expecting to see the fingers move since they had heard a sound coming from that area. Finally Moffitt crawled over the debris to feel for warmth. The hand was cold and stiff to his touch. "Dead." He announced. "Several hours at least."

"But I know I heard something." Hitchcock insisted. "There….there it is again."

"I heard something too." Tully agreed, straining to locate the source of the sound.

"Maybe there is someone else under all that mess." Moffitt suggested. The other three looked at Troy hopefully, waiting for him to make the call.

"Oh h…." Troy decided, torn between leaving or staying. "Hitch, go back on watch; the rest of us will clear some of this wall away and see if we can find anything."

Reluctantly the blond turned back to keep watch. He could hear the grunts of the others as they lifted or slid the heavy chunks of stone out of their way. He tried to concentrate on his task but his mind kept going back to the sounds that he had heard.

"Troy!"

Moffitt's call drew Hitch back to the wall. Glancing down from his vantage point, he tried to see what had excited the sergeant.

"Hitch, keep your eyes open! We have enough problems without you letting the Germans sneak up on us."

With a guilty start, Hitch returned to his duty. Scanning the desert around them for movement, he kept his ears tuned to the activity below.

"They're both dead." Hitch heard Moffitt say in a discouraged voice.

"We'll dig them out and give them a decent burial." Troy sighed as their efforts proved fruitless. "It's the least we can do." He shook his head at the senseless loss of life.

"What is it Serge?"

"Hitch, what did I tell you?"

"I'm watching Serge, I just couldn't help but hear Moffitt yell." The blond answered.

Glancing up, Troy could only see the private's back as he stood guard. Satisfied that he was indeed watching their backs, Troy decided to answer him. "Two Arabs, an older man and a younger woman; both dead. Looks like they were killed when the wall fell."

"Darn." Hitch shook his head at the loss of civilian lives. When people talked of war they seldom mentioned the impact it had on the innocent civilians caught in the middle. "Are we going to bury them Serge?"

"Yeah Hitch, we're going to bury them." Was the quiet reply.

"Troy, they've both been dead too long to have made the noise that Hitch heard. There could still be someone else in there." Moffitt looked at all the rock and timber that they had move and frowned.

"Keep digging." Troy answered in a tired voice.

Tully was the one who found the small pocket of space under the heavy slab. Dropping to his knees, he peered under it, looking for more bodies. The gathering shadows as the sun went down made it hard to see very far under the crumbling rubble. "Hey Serge, I need a flashlight."

"I'll get it." Troy volunteered. He scrambled over the rubble and headed for the jeep. Once he found a flashlight he grabbed a canteen and headed back, checking on Hitch on the way. The blond gave him a quick smile when he glanced down and saw him watching. Troy nodded a Hitch turned his attention back to the surrounding desert. Troy handed the flashlight to Tully and the canteen to Moffitt.

Moffitt uncapped the canteen to drink but nearly dropped it as Tully called to them.

"Hey Serge, I got eyes looking at me. The kid's maybe six or seven, looks scared." Tully's tone may have sounded calm to anyone who didn't know him, but Troy could clearly hear the edge of excitement in his voice. "Maybe you'd better talk to him Doc, I don't think he understands me."

Tully scooted back to make room for Moffitt so the sergeant could get down to see under the stone slab. Speaking in what he hoped was a soothing tone; Moffitt began to question the child.

"He's stuck. There is too much weight on him for him to be able to move. We're going to have to find a way to lift this slab."

"Is he hurt other than being pinned?" Troy searched for a way to lift the slab as he questioned Moffitt.

"He says his leg hurts."

"Okay, Tully, get the jack from the jeep. We can use some of these beams to support it once we lift the weight. We don't want him trying to crawl out past the jack." Troy gathered some of the beams together within reach while Tully retrieved the jack.

Carefully, bracing the slab every time they lifted it enough to shove a beam under it, they moved the weight off the boy. As the child started to wiggle, Moffitt encouraged him to crawl toward them. Staring at Moffitt, the boy crawled the other way, deeper under the rubble.

"What the ….?" Troy was about to reach under and try to grab the frightened child. Convinced that the boy was either frightened or confused, he was determined to drag him to safety.

A small, wailing cry echoed throughout the building, coming from under the slab. As the three men gaped in surprise, the boy crawled from beneath the slab pulling a blanket wrapped bundle of unhappy baby behind him.

Moffitt reached for the baby but the boy clung to him protectively. Speaking in a gentle tone, the sergeant tried to explain that they only wanted to help. The boy drew away from him, his eyes searching the interior of the building. Despite his own injuries, the boy insisted that he could care for his brother. Not wanting to upset him any more than necessary, Moffitt chose not to push him. He motioned for the others to give the boy room so he could crawl clear of the rubble. As they moved away, the boy attempted to stand to walk over the rocks and wood piled all around him. As he stood, his eyes fell on the two bodies that Troy and Moffitt had moved aside to continue digging. The boy gave a cry and fell toward the bodies. His muffled sobs shook his whole body, a mixture of loss and pain.

After a while Moffitt gently lifted him clear of his parents and carried him to the jeeps. The boy offered no resistance, clinging tightly to the tiny bundle in his arms. Moffitt allowed him to hold his brother as his own injuries were being treated. The sergeant cleaned his cuts and bruises and wrapped a bandage around his knee. Moffitt tried to wrap his ribs with an elastic bandage but the boy refused. After much coaxing he allowed the sergeant to examine his baby brother.

"The boy has bruises and cuts; he may have a cracked rib. His left knee is swollen, possibly a sprain. He's hungry, tired, and thirsty, but unless he has internal injuries that I'm not aware of, he'll live."

"The baby?"

Moffitt smiled as he rewrapped the baby in his blanket and handed him back to his anxious brother. "The baby is hungry."

"What are we going to feed a baby?"

Moffitt glanced at Tully. "Do we have any powdered milk?"

"A little, I'll mix it up for you."

"How are we going to feed him?" Troy asked as he stared down into the tiny face.

"We can dip a cloth into the milk and let him suck on the corner."

"Kids and babies," Troy growled to hide his feelings, "what next?"

"I suggest that we get out of here Troy; as soon as we bury their parents we should move camp. The Germans who did this may come back."

"You know what they need, you take care of the bodies, I'll get started on the graves." Troy reached into the jeep for a shovel.

The boy saw the shovel and began to get agitated. Moffitt quieted him and explained what they were going to do. Nodding his head, the boy handed his brother to Tully and he went with Moffitt to prepare his parents bodies for burial.

Tully had the baby fed, changed and asleep by the time the boy and the sergeants returned. The boy immediately picked up the small bundle and hugged him tightly. The soldiers ignored the tiny sobs that escaped the woolen blanket, allowing the boy the dignity of grieving.

"Hitch, let's go!"

Hitchcock ran to his jeep and started the engine. The boy climbed into the second jeep behind Moffitt, still clinging tightly to his brother. Troy gave the order and the tiny group left the small village behind with its freshly dug graves.

"Tully, you have first watch, then Moffitt, then Hitch. I'll take the last one."

Tully nodded and picked up the machine gun. "The milk is in the box behind the seat if you need any more Serge."

"Thank you Tully, he should sleep for at least another hour." Moffitt tucked his own blankets around the sleeping boy and his small bundle. The boy, eyes heavy with sleep, stirred and shifted before rolling back into a ball. Both boys had been fed and given drinks before being tucked into the rear of one of the jeeps.

"Hey Serge, what do we do if the baby starts to cry?" Hitch was watching the sleeping pair with a worried expression.

"Feed it, change it, and burb it."

"I don't know anything about babies. What if I pick it up and break it?" There was a hint of panic in the young soldier's voice. "I never held a baby."

Moffitt smiled. "Just don't drop it and you'll be fine. And it's not an 'it', it's a baby boy and his name is Nabib."

"Does he know that? His name I mean?" Hitch took a step closer to the jeep to peer into the two small faces sleeping so peacefully.

"I'm sure he does, he just can't answer to it yet." Moffitt smile at Hitchcock's obvious nervousness. He was a battle tested, battle hardened soldier who faced death without blinking; yet he was letting twelve pounds of helpless baby nearly send him into a panic. "Just call me or Tully if you need any help Hitch."

The blond nodded, still uncertain about this new turn of events. "I guess I could feed him if I have to."

"Just don't give him any gum like you did his brother; he's much too young for that."

"I know that Serge, I'm not completely dumb when it comes to babies." The blond replied, sounding slightly irritated. He glanced uneasily toward the sleeping pair and frowned. "Maybe I'll call Tully if he gets hungry; he's had baby brothers and nephews and all that. You can cut up my spare shirt if you need another diaper."

"Thank you Hitch." With a laugh, Moffitt turned in until it was his turn to stand guard. Rolling up in the blanket that Tully had loaned him, he fell asleep wondering what they were going to do with their two young charges.

"Hey Serge, my time up already?"

"Yes Tully, actually I'm a bit late. I took the time to check on our young friends and I fed and changed the baby." Moffitt reached for the weapon that Tully offered him.

"What are we going to do with them Serge?"

Moffitt glanced toward the jeep where the children slept. "I've been thinking about that. We can take them to the orphanage and leave them in the care of the nuns. We can ask around about any relatives and spread the word about where they are staying. Hopefully their family will claim them."

"They're both boys so there is a better chance of that, right? I mean, they cherish the boys, don't they?"

"Yes Tully, if they have any family left, someone will eventually come to claim them."

"Good, 'cause I hate that this war makes so many orphans."

"That is the nature of war Tully. No war has ever distinguished between the warriors and the innocent when it comes to casualties; bullets and bombs, they kill indiscriminately."

"Well it stinks!" With that heartfelt pronouncement, Tully headed for his blankets.

Moffitt stared out into the desert and pondered the meaning of war. He had to agree with Tully, war stinks! It pulled families apart, killed good and bad alike, and caused great hardships for even the youngest and most innocent members of a society. He silently paced the perimeter of the camp, fighting fatigue and his depressing thoughts.

The figure that rose up behind him had moments ago been only a shadow hidden in a darker shadow. Moffitt sensed the movement and tried to spin to protect himself. The gun barrel that connected with the side of his head dropped him before he could raise the alarm. Other shadows detached themselves from the darkness and began to creep toward the sleeping camp,

The first awareness of danger for the other three members of the Rat Patrol was the rifle barrels poking into their sides. As they stirred and opened their eyes they were grabbed and pulled to their feet. Rough hands bound them securely before dragging them to the center of the camp. There they were forced to sit together and they were tied together as a group. The three of them watched as a semi-conscious Moffitt was dropped at their feet.

"Moffitt, Moffitt, wake up."

The British sergeant fought to focus as Troy called to him.

"What do they want?"

Moffitt listened to the angry words around him and tried to figure out what was going on. "They want us dead. They hate both sides in this war and they are planning to kill us like some German troops that they found. They have accused us of killing their people for no reason."

"We don't do that Serge." Tully protested, eyeing the Arabs around them.

"They wouldn't believe me even if I told them that Tully. They hate all of us." He gasp as he was pulled to his feet and bound hand and foot.

"Great." Troy muttered as Moffitt was knocked to his knees next to Tully.

"So they're just going to shoot us without a chance to explain?" Tully persisted.

"Not at all Tully" The British sergeant replied. "They aren't planning on shooting us, that would be too quick; they want us to suffer first. They are, as we speak, trying to decide the slowest and most painful way to dispose of us."

A yell from the jeep drew everyone's attention. Two of the Arabs, searching the jeeps, had found the boys.

"Moffitt, tell them that the boys are innocent. They had nothing to do with whatever it is that they are mad about."

The British sergeant rushed to plead with the leader to spare the boys. He begged them to let the boys go, to send them somewhere safe. Troy, Hitch and Tully strained to see what was happening, their faces pinched with concern. The two privates struggled to free themselves so they could protect the children.

The Arab leader listened to Moffitt silently, his face giving nothing of his feelings away. He watched the soldiers as they strained to get to the boys.

"Leave them alone!" Hitch called as he saw the boys being passed among the crowd. Tully glared at them angrily, his silence a clear warning. The boys were carried to the leader and all four men watched them closely, waiting for their opportunity.

"Hitch, Tully, take it easy." Moffitt's quiet warning reached their ears. They stopped struggling but their eyes never left their small charges. Moffitt noticed something that the others had missed. "They aren't in any danger."

"What?" Troy demanded.

"I think the boys have just been claimed by their family. I'm not all that familiar with this particular dialect, but if I'm correct, the leader is their uncle."

Tully and Hitch turned as far as they could toward Moffitt. "Are you sure Doc?" Hitch whispered.

"So they'll take care of them, right?" Tully asked at the same time.

"Yes, they'll take care of them."

"Good, that means we can concentrate on taking care of us." Troy whispered to the others.

"Are they going to be mad at us for taking the kids?" Tully asked in a quiet tone.

"It hardly matters, does it?" Hitch asked.

"What do you mean Hitch?"

"They were going to kill us slow and painful anyway, how much worse can it get?"

"He's got a point," Troy agreed, "but let's not give up too easily."

"You got a plan Serge?" The blond asked eagerly.

"Not yet." The sergeant admitted. "I'm still working on it. Just be ready for any opportunity."

The leader chose that moment to return. He pointed to Moffitt and turned away as two of his men approached the sergeant.

"Serge?"

They watched, helpless, as one of the men pulled a knife and leaned over the sergeants' body. Expecting the knife to cut into his flesh, they were surprised when it cut the ropes holding him. He was pulled to his feet and escorted to the tent that had been set up for the leader. The others watched as he disappeared inside.

"They wouldn't start anything tonight, would they Serge?" Hitchcock tensed, waiting to hear the cries of someone in pain.

"I don't know Hitch, just be ready; if we get a chance, we'll go after Moffitt."

They waited as the silence continued there were some voices raised in argument in the tent but they didn't hear Moffitt. Finally the three guards returned knives in hand. Hitch leaned away as one of them gripped his shoulder. Again the knife sliced through the rope, freeing him. He looked around to see the other Arabs freeing Troy and Tully. They were taken to the tent where Moffitt had entered. As they ducked through the door they were relieved to see that Moffitt appeared to be unharmed.

"What's going on Moffitt?" Troy tried to understand the situation; if this was going to be their only chance to escape, he needed to take full advantage of it.

The British sergeant smiled and motioned for them to sit. "We have been invited to spend the night with our new friends. We'll be allowed to leave first thing in the morning."

"Why?"

"The couple that we buried; the man was the brother of Hasir, the leader. The woman was his brother's youngest wife. They are grateful to us for saving the boys and for giving the dead a respectful burial. We're their honored guests for tonight so that they can show their gratitude."

"I think I'd much rather leave while they are in a good mood; before they change their minds and decide to go ahead and kill us." Hitch whispered as he watched one of the men sharpen his knife.

"Once you are declared a guest, you are protected within that camp under their law. No one dare harm us without incurring the wrath of Hasir. It's an age old custom that few are willing to challenge. The men of this tribe would protect us with their lives if necessary as long as we are in their camp. It's a matter of honor."

"If that doesn't sound crazy; a minute ago they were planning on how to kill us and now they are willing to die to keep us safe." Hitch shook his head at the idea.

"The desert ain't nothing like home." Tully drawled. "Back home if you get mad at someone, I mean really mad like these fellows were, you generally stay mad at them for a long time, generations even."

"Remind me never to get you mad at me then." Moffitt smiled at Tully.

"You and me both." Hitch added with a grin at his fellow 'rat'. "But just the same, I think that I'm going to sleep light tonight." The blond aimed a smile at the British sergeant.

"We all will." Troy agreed.

When they awoke the next morning the men of the Rat Patrol were graced with a rare breakfast of fresh fruits and meat cakes. Their hosts packed up their camp as the soldiers ate. The leader took Moffitt aside to talk to him before they pulled out, leaving the others to sit by the fire and wait for him.

"Seems strange letting these guys guard our camp after the way we met." Tully offered in the silence that fell over the camp after Moffitt left.

"This whole thing has been strange." Troy agreed. "Kids have no place in a combat zone."

"They live here Serge, they lived here before we got here." Hitchcock defended their right to be there.

"I know, but look what it got them, orphaned and almost dead." Troy finished his coffee and began to police the camp.

"It got us some new and powerful friends." Moffitt returned to the fire as the Arabs broke camp and pulled out. "Hasir is the leader of a large and influential clan. He has declared that we are now under his protection. If we ever need his help, all we need do is ask. Out here," Moffitt indicated the desert, " that is a big advantage."

"Maybe," Troy responded, "but I'd still rather keep civilians and kids out of it. If it's all right with you, I think we should take care of ourselves and keep this war between soldiers." The others smiled and silently agreed with him. "Let's go home." This time the agreement was more vocal as they all cheered.


End file.
